Al Azif
Quelle: Spotify
In this desert for 40 days
Voices tell me the ways
I first believed in demons, but it is not
They are older units, real
They ask me to write a book, cursed
If they will let me die of thirst
(They ordered me)
Sitting on the edge of a dune, they dictated to me
Like whispers of Jinns they force me to write
Incantations to invoke these gods
Cursed bible, obscene words
Alone in the desert I lose my sanity
And I write the end of humanity
No place to escape
I'm no more than a shape
"Listen to us poor human, your book should begin with thisThat is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die"
I write pages and pages,
My hand is bleeding, for this book of rages
Now they found me in the crowd
Invisibles, they devour me
I would end up in a shroud
No one can help me
Zeige deinen Freunden, dass dir Al Azif von The Great Old Ones gefällt:
Kommentare